by Wolfe Locke
Mary Anne raised her hand, and Garen smiled, waving his hand to suspend and bypass the spell of silence he had cast. “What are the selections?” she asked. “I think I'd like to be an elf like you—and like the others, if that's okay?”
“Yeah, that's not going to happen,” Garen replied. “I don’t let anyone change their race to an elf. If you didn’t choose it from the very beginning, that’s on you. That's your mistake. The elves will never be a selection on the pre-approved list—only the lesser races like humans, dwarfs, goblins, lizard men and the undead are on there.”
“Could I have a little more information about these choices before making a decision?” she asked
Garen laughed at her. “That's on you to figure out. Just be more discerning with your choices from now on. They have actual consequences.
Speaking of consequences, I'm assigning you an adventurer rank of F for your performance in this tutorial. You’ll receive a debt fine of 50 Sol, which is our currency, and a debt fine of 50 experience. Best of luck in your future battles.”
Before she could protest or ask another question, Garen raised his hand, and the same light flashed again, and whatever sound she had wanted to make was gone.
Garen turned away from the woman and turned to the monstrous-looking man with bull horns at the table next to her and started speaking. “Next up we have Dwight. Now, Dwight, I really liked your cosmetic selection. A Minotaur can boost any team it’s on, but you need to understand that until you upgrade your abilities and your gear you can’t just absorb hits. A tank without armor is worthless.
I imagine it was quite the unpleasant sensation when Sadie’s sword cut through your flesh like butter, leaving you gutted and bleeding out on the ground. You need to remember that a little healthy fear goes a long way toward self-preservation. Even though you made it past the starting point, I’m also granting you an adventurers’ rank of F for your performance. You are also fined a debt of 50 Sol and 50 experience.”
Next, Garen turned to the elven male behind Dwight—his ears a giveaway for what his cosmetic selections had been. “George, I know that being an elf brings with it feelings of elation that are difficult to control, but don't ever forget that the people who are here in the dungeon—now elf and human alike—are people that are masters of their craft and masters of the martial art that they specialize in.”
“You can’t just pick up a sword and be an expert. Especially, not trying to dual wield swords. You have to learn to crawl before you can walk. For your efforts, I’ll be awarding you an adventurers’ rank of C.
The willingness to close with an opponent is the true heart of the Warrior. When we're done here, you can have access to up to 5 training sessions with some elven trainers, myself included. I have no intention of wasting your raw talent and passion just because you’ve been reckless.” Garen nodded at him and moved on.
“Alright, Jack,” Garen said. “Jack, I'd like to commend you for being able to take advantage of the situation like you did. This was a difficult challenge for you—your abilities were not well-suited for the task—but through conniving and working with others, you were able to survive and actually get the award for being the first to collect the ten tokens. For these reasons, I'm awarding you an A rank as an adventurer.
Unfortunately, we do not currently have any necromantic trainers, so I cannot offer you that. As an award instead, I can offer one elite cosmetic selection that has a chance to change your racial attributions.”
Garen turned and looked toward Alexander. “Alexander, you did your job as expected, but nothing you did stood out. You are neither an expert nor have any natural talent, but you were willing to close with the enemy, and that is the heart of the Warrior.
However, you also attempted to steal the artifact off one of your party, and in doing so, you managed to be defeated. This is both shameful and embarrassing. For this reason, I'm assigning you an adventurer rank of D, and I will offer you two free training sessions with the spear.
Seraph knew who would come next, and he refused to look to see.
“Paul,” Garen said. “I watched your progress with great interest. That you already had natural talent and training with a knife was evident, but I was impressed more so that you remained cool and collected during your fight with the Gigas.
These aspects impressed us. Less impressive was the distraction your female companion was for you.
For this reason, I am assigning you an adventurer rank of B. As a reward for your efforts, we are granting you an unbreakable knife that can extend up to four feet. We feel you will make good use of it.”
Garen nodded at Paul and then moved on to an empty table. “The woman who was among you did not respawn,” explained Garen. “When the soul and the spirit is destroyed, there's nothing left to come back. For those of you who knew her, apologies for your loss.”
At last, Garen stood before Seraph. “You and I have already talked about your performance. We can talk further still, in private, about ways to improve. But for your efforts and for your results I deem you an A-ranked adventurer. The keys you found opened the door to the outside. Though Reverend was beyond you, he was not beyond the Infernals. In this way, you could have defeated him. Because you did not realize this course of action, I cannot grant you an S ranking.
Additionally, you were unable to recover the dungeon seed. For this reason, I also cannot grant you an S ranking. Also, like in the case of Jack, we do not have any trainers available that I believe will benefit you. In their absence, you will also be granted an additional elite cosmetic selection, if you so wish.”
Garen walked back to the front of the room and snapped his fingers. “Alright, most of you are dismissed.”
In an instant, only Paul, Seraph, Jack, and Alexander remained. The tension between them all was heavy and palpable. Seraph stared while the other three avoided his gaze.
“As the only survivors of the tutorial, and the first ones to go through it, you have a choice to make,” explained Garen.
“The tutorial you were afforded is not free. There is a cost associated with it. To maintain the tutorial indefinitely for all future adventurers we would need to implement a tax on roughly 10% of all experience earned.
That 10% allows us to manage this tutorial, and it gives you humans a better chance at survival. Alternatively, we can use that 10% tax to give you more power now and put that debt on the remainder of humanity to pay back. Whatever you four decide, it needs to be a complete 100% vote in favor or against. Any questions?”
A hand was raised. Alexander’s hand. “Do we get anything from other people in return for keeping the tutorial running? Or are we expected to live off gratitude? How would you power us up, and why would I want to give that up?”
Garen answered, “Those of you who hold a legendary class emblem will have it unlocked. Those of you who don’t will be granted an elite class instead.”
Seraph understood some of that sentiment as he thought of the Emblem that sealed away his power. The desire to be whole again was tempting. Seraph looked at the other two men and then to his father. His father turned away, unable to look at him.
“I also have a question,” Seraph said. “How does the tutorial benefit humanity?”
Garen looked at Seraph in apparent appreciation for the question. “A good question. If the tutorial respawn was not in place, half of the participants of the tutorial would have died. I cannot say if all will have the same results, but it certainly will save lives. Everyone who goes through the tutorial will be stronger for it when they enter the actual dungeon.”
"Garen?" asked Seraph, "I'd like to discuss with the other three humans this policy you want us to adopt. It should be quick. I just want to make the best call."
"Yeah, that's fine,” responded Garen. “This is a big decision that is going to affect a lot more than just you. It's not something you need to rush through. Just remember that whatever you decide, that decision has to be unanimous.
The fou
r humans grouped up to talk as Garen looked on.
"There's nothing to talk about." Alexander said. "I'm not going to pay a tax forever for a benefit I don't use, just for the sake of people I don't know. I was pathetic out there, but if I get a boost, I could become like a god. And I think Jack is with me on that from the way he’s nodding his head. This isn’t worth turning down elite and legendary class upgrades.”
"Alright then," acknowledged Seraph. "What about your thoughts, Dad? Where do you fall with this?”
“You don’t want to know my thoughts,” Paul said darkly. “But this is bigger than my feelings. When I served in the Army, I learned there is a lot more to being a hero than just being strong. Integrity, courage, service, they all matter, but sometimes you have to be prepared to do the hard thing when life gives you no other option than to spit on your hands and hoist the black sails. I'll defer to whatever the group decides to make things easier.
Seraph nodded, appreciative of the blunt advice. He knew he would need to talk to Paul later. "Alright, Alexander, do you mind telling Garen then that we’ve made our decision?”
"Yeah, not a problem. I don’t want any trouble, you know. This is just the best decision for me,” he replied.
"Yes, I do know how it is," muttered Seraph in disappointment.
Alexander turned to walk away, and Seraph tightened his grip on the Cat Claw that he always carried attached to his arm.
With a quickness that no one expected, he thrust the weapon through Alexander’s skull, killing him instantly as blood and brain matter splattered from the force of the thrust. Alexander dropped dead to the floor, and the body began convulsing.
Seraph approached Garen, daring the other two men to disagree with him. "We accept the tutorial tax of 10% of all future experience to be imposed on us and all future humans who enter the dungeon."
"Great! I knew you had it in you,” replied Garen with a smile. “And welcome to Hometown. The journey of a lifetime starts here.”
The Genesis Game: Volume II
The Genesis Game: Volume II
A Dark Dungeon Realm LitRPG
By Wolfe Locke
Chapter 1: Master of the Dungeon
* * *
Light shone from multiple screens in the General Manager’s office, the glare reflecting off his bifocals as he watched in earnest the progress of the first players as they progressed through the tutorial phases of his beginner dungeon. Out of the top scores of players, one, in particular, held his attention the most—the boy, Luca, a young, recently transformed Fallen. The one who had begun to call himself Seraph, and the one who had inherited the memories of the only man to ever complete the dungeon. The use of that name, heavy with implications, intrigued the General Manager at the possibilities.
On another set of screens, less exciting but still an integral part of operations, the General Manager kept a close eye on the flow of traffic outside the attraction, waiting for peak hours before beginning the process by which the World Dungeon would reveal itself and emerge from the confines of the mall and the current limitations of its clever facade.
Two clocks shone in red—one reflecting the time of the outside world, and the other indicating the much faster time as it elapsed inside the dungeon. Based on the timeline established by the first round of players within the tutorial, they could—with increased numbers—process thousands of players a day, as long as the nuanced nature of the tutorial dungeon didn’t drive its tutorial boss too mad.
It was a marvel even for the General Manager that the entity known as Reverend had become entrapped in both the World Dungeon as a Wight and anchored as a Dark Caller to the apocalyptic future the General Manager had hoped to avoid. Avoidance of that future was the primary reason he had allowed the boy to receive the memories of his future self. Existing in both the present and the future at the same time had forced the dungeon to make many alterations and adjustments to prevent its own demise. This was a side effect and consequence of time travel.
With a sigh, the General Manager looked at the screens showing the surface again. In a few short hours, many of those people milling about, laughing, going about their lives, would be killed. Their deaths were not something he looked forward to and enjoyed. Rather, they were a consequence and unavoidable collateral damage as he sought to empower humanity to save themselves.
Turning away from the scenes on the surface, the General Manager turned his attention back to running his game. He had hoped to see some breakouts with the changes he had made to the dungeon, but he was mostly disappointed by what he had seen so far—though the man in the second cohort he had entrusted the Kraken Class to seemed to be showing some potential.
Tirelessly, the General Manager watched the players for hours as they moved through his dungeon, his eyes never straying from the screens in front of him. He was always making mental notes of things he would implement in the future in following cohorts, considering necessary changes to the overall tutorial setup. Death was a given in the Genesis Game, but as long as he could make a few easy changes to prevent unnecessary deaths, he was okay with that. It was the least that he could do while he still had the power to do so.
The first change he implemented was almost comical in its simplicity—a mandatory name change, creating a handle to be used by all future participants. The General Manager knew it would help the humans to acclimatize quicker to their new environment, allowing them to fully immerse themselves in their new reality and their new identity as players.
With a mental command sent to the front desk, every registration form had a simple line added to it that new players would need to fill out that read “Character Name.” For those who would come later, he mentally advised all of his minions within the tutorial that they would need to demand the players give themselves a new name.
With the fundamental change in place, the General Manager had an epiphany, and he smiled as an idea lit up his face. Just as he demanded new names from the players, so he would also need a new name to be called by. Though the General Manager had been called by many names throughout the millennia, none could be used here, their names and meaning lost to all not of Pandemonium The other dark lords were not yet ready to reveal themselves.
No inspiration came to him for what his new name would be, but he did not need to rely just on himself. Mentally, the General Manager tugged at the threads of the chain of his consciousness that connected him to the infinite existence that was his true self. Sifting through the knowledge at his disposal, the combined sum of every life that had ended and been absorbed within his walls appeared for him to peruse. In his mind, he read vast lists of aliases, monikers, code names of superheroes, villains, anti-heroes, and even minor cast members from cult classics, but none struck him as the one he should choose for himself. None seemed to fit.
I need to go deeper into myself, he thought as he allowed his body to sink into his chair and relax into a meditative state. He closed his eyes and shut himself off from the room as he slowly retreated from within the body he had created for himself. He reached out to the rest of his idle consciousness, which spanned both time and space. The vast multitude that existed within him, Legion, the millions who had died and been absorbed, one by one, he explored their memories, their thoughts, their fears, and their dreams.
Entire lives seen through foreign eyes in milliseconds, and yet he felt nothing as he browsed, more curator than anything. Until, finally, mere moments later, he found what he had been looking for—a name he could call himself in the memory of one who had profoundly loved irony.
“My name will be Michael,” he said out loud as he returned his consciousness to the room, slipping back into his body. Only seconds had passed, and Michael saw that the players were still finishing up in-processing. The next cohort was already through and done with their reading and on to the weapon selection.
Michael was pleased when he saw his minions across their many locations pressing the players for a new name. Without a script to go from, they ha
d to adapt on the spot, and his minions all performed well. It was one of the many reasons Michael had allowed the elves to seek refuge in the dungeon rather than be destroyed after the God Aeon and Wormwood had come for them.
In every realm that Michael had tried to interfere, none had been able to stop the mad god. Though the Dark Lords of Pandemonium prepared, the eventual confrontation would be a calamity.
Adjusting himself for comfort, Michael returned his gaze to the monitors in front of him, his attention shifting to the new cohort of players. Things had gone predictably with the first cohort, but he was curious to see how Luca would respond to the offer being made. Whatever they chose, the first cohort was free to either enter the real dungeon or pursue a little rest and respite. They had a few days within the dungeon before the rest of humanity would begin to join them.
A knock on the door distracted him for a second, breaking his attention away from his players. Michael turned away from the screens to call out to the knocker, "Come in, Sadie, but be quick about it.”
He knew it was her, even without his abilities. There was only one person who would be knocking on his door—Sadie—as Garen was currently occupied and always addressed him before knocking. She knew that he was still in, and she knew he never left. None of his other workers—as he had come to refer to his sentient minions—ever came to the surface level like this, and few of his workers ever tried to interact with him directly.
Sadie opened the door, letting herself into the small office, recoiling initially as the room smelled strongly of burnt coffee and aftershave. If the General Manager noticed the smells, he seemed not to notice as he turned his attention back to the monitors, swaying back and forth in his chair. A pensive look crossed his face as he stared at the numerous screens that showed the dungeon.